Overwhelmed in Oklahoma

by Elissa Strati

  “Yet I felt that I was running in circles.”

  She laughed. “Perhaps you were. I'm sorry we haven't talked more about us, although we have covered just about every other topic except the most personal. For instance, we discussed that you want to do something different with your life and have been saving for that purpose, but that you really don't know what that is. You're not sure if you want to ranch or even farm.

  “So how did you feel about being a builder?”

  “As you could see for yourself, I quite enjoy it. Of course a great deal of that enjoyment was being near you, but building something and seeing it come to life under my hands was a new experience for me. I've had a similar feeling when helping a mare give birth, but it is not as lasting, since I often don’t see mare and foal again.

  “Admittedly, I won't be living in that house, but it's there, it's significant, and I can visit, especially since the owners are family members. It gave me great and deep satisfaction both doing the work and seeing the finished product.”

  “Yes!” she exclaimed, “That is exactly how I feel too. It has been magic for me since my paw first put a hammer in my hand and allowed me to drive a nail. Of course, he made sure I understood that my hands did not belong anywhere near the head of the hammer.”

  She laughed as he reached for one of her hands, stroking the fingers.

  “You do have beautiful hands. I would love to decorate them, first with my own hands, and then with my lips, and then with my ring.”

  “I would happily entrust my hands to you. I have already entrusted my job site into your care on more than one occasion. And as my father or brother would tell you, I never do that. But I had and have full confidence in you and you have absolutely shone brighter even than I expected.”

  He had continued stroking her fingers and now, raising them to his lips, kissed each one individually, first her fingertips, then each knuckle, culminating on the back of her hand. He then slid down from the bench and dropped to one knee, keeping her hand in his. Reaching into his pocket with his other hand, he pulled out a beautiful rose gold circlet carved to resemble flowers, with a small, brilliantly faceted stone in the center of each.

  “I would happily have given you the largest gem available, but I remembered your lecture to the men about removing jewelry when working around equipment to avoid the danger of snagging a ring, or worse. But when you are not working with tools, I hope you will consider wearing this on the finger next to your heart, as your heart now encompasses mine. Will you marry me, my beautiful goddess, my Amazon, my Viking?”

  “Yes I will, my hero.”

  He was sliding the ring onto her finger, but paused. “Why do you call me your hero?”

  “But you are, and have been since we were children, when I had you on a pedestal just like a fairytale hero.”

  As she talked she slid her hand forward just a little to secure the ring, winking at him, then reversed her palm so that she could grasp his hand in hers as well, tugging slightly until he was again seated next to her.

  “Do you remember sitting in our tree, which now protects Tree House?” She raised her head to look above them to where the tree was again providing them shelter.

  “Of course, we did that all the time.”

  “And do you remember the time I jumped down without looking first, and suddenly there was a rattling sound?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes, I do remember. I was still up in the tree and you had landed right next to a rattlesnake.”

  “Exactly. And I was utterly terrified. Fortunately I was too afraid to move because then your next instructions were, ‘That's right, don't move.’ And you reached out your hand and snapped off a branch and flung it past the snake and away from me and the snake followed the branch. You have always been my hero since then.

  “You're not flashy like some of the boys,” she continued, “but you are quiet and steady and strong and solid. You are always there when needed. You don't know how secure you made me feel—and still do, knowing I had your friendship regardless of what other craziness was going on in our lives. I guess you spoiled me for other men, not that a great many have come around to court.”

  “You are a Queen and most men cannot aspire that high. I have never been but a Knight-Errant, but you have raised me to your side where I will quite happily be your Prince Consort.”

  “Oh, no,” said she. “You are my King. No knight-errant but Prince Charming.”

  Peering up at him from under her lashes she smiled saucily and added, “And as your Princess, I need your kiss to awaken me.” He happily complied.

  CHAPTER 23 – The Wedding

  Cindy Lou was a stunning bride and Joe stood, very handsomely attired, beaming at his beautiful wife-to-be as she came down the aisle on the arm of her father. Cindy's sisters we're beaming as well, and their expressions were mirrored by Joe's brothers.

  Charlie, too, was radiant in her seafoam chiffon, cunningly draped to accentuate her femininity. As beautiful as was the bride, Clint had trouble keeping his eyes off the Maid of Honor.

  The Reverend Stone provided a simple and touching ceremony, blessing the union. The celebration following the wedding went on into the wee hours with bride and groom leading the dancing.

  ~~~

  “I didn't think you're going to be able to outlast them,” commented Charlie to Cindy as she helped Cindy change out of her wedding gown and into a traveling costume. She then changed her own gown for an identical traveling costume. She did not know how anyone was going to mistake her for the rather petite Cindy Lou, but hoped that dark, distance, and dancing would be enough distraction.

  Charlie slid out the side door where she met Clint, and the two of them slipped up the lane to where a horse and buggy awaited them. He carefully helped her into the conveyance and then jumped up himself somewhat clumsily, causing the harness to jingle in a pause in the music. Suddenly all eyes were looking at them, sitting somewhat in the dark under the shadow of a tree. Clint grinned at her and she nodded.

  “Yes, I think you got their attention.”

  Clint snapped the reins and the horse took off at a trot toward Tree House. Most of the crowd came running after them, some banging pots and all hallooing and making a great deal of noise in the manner of a properly executed shivaree.

  Meanwhile, slipping out the same door Charlie had exited, Cindy Lou was met by her new husband, Joe, and the two of them sneaked away in the opposite direction. Another buggy awaited them, but they delayed until the sounds of merriment moved further off, before they clambered aboard and took off as quietly as possible toward town.

  Joe had arranged lodgings in the name of one of the guests who was actually staying at the main house. They had their own plans and didn't intend to be interrupted by the entirety of the wedding guests.

  Clint and Charlie got to Tree House before any of the crowd caught up to them, and were able to slip into the front door where her father greeted them and whisked them up the stairs to a candlelit room.

  As the wedding party gathered in front of the house, some beneath the porte-cochère and others streaming into the front yard, someone caught sight of their shadows and cried out, “They are upstairs!” pointing to the lighted window. A great deal of hullabaloo greeted the couple in the window who were backlit by the candles.

  Waving to their putative guests, Clint dramatically draped Charlie over his arm and gave her a theatrical kiss. At some point reality overtook acting and the kiss lingered a great deal longer than either had intended, before the noise from outside finally reach their consciousnesses.

  “I intend to repeat that sometime soon,” growled Clint.

  “I certainly hope you do!” replied a breathless Charlie.

  The laughing and cheering mob outside was singing as the couple waved again, then closed the louvered shutters letting only small slits of light drift out onto the crowd. They would likely be there for hours.

  Meanwhile, a few more intimate family members arrived and joine
d them in the kitchen, having ensured that the actual bridal couple had successfully escaped. Cindy's mother had brought a picnic for them all, and they happily enjoyed a late supper.

  “Well, I don't know about anyone else,” yawned Charlie after about an hour, “but I suspect if this was successful the couple has long since checked in, and I, for one, am ready to find my own bed.”

  She was too tired to even blush over her ill-considered words.

  The horse had long since been stabled, so the group crept out the back of the house and took the shortcut through the woods. Charlie was glad for the comfortable boots that were part of her new travel costume. And she happily held the Clint's elbow as they strolled.

  Big Hank loomed alongside them.

  “Well, that was quite the display you put on for the crowd,” he murmured.

  “Yes sir, I believe I had your blessing for that.”

  “I had rather expected . . .” Hank’s voice faded as Clint moved his hand which had been caressing Charlie's, twisting hers so it caught the moonlight.

  “I see,” said Hank, smiling. “Carry on.” And he strode ahead.

  EPILOGUE

  Little Hank had admired Harmony as long as he could remember. But he first fell in love with her when she played Mary in the Christmas Pageant—when he got to be the behind end of a camel. And I bet that’s how she still she thinks of me, if she thinks of me at all, he thought ruefully. Now Harmony had become quite the needle woman and was helping his sister Charlie Sue make her wedding dress. Charlie was accomplished at many, many things, but could not sew a straight seam. However, her needlework and embroidery were exquisite and she was working on an intricate lace trim for her dress.

  “Henry, could you come over here a minute?” asked Harmony.

  Hank looked around to see who else had walked into the room. Seeing no one he looked back over to Harmony.

  “Yes, I’m talking to you!”

  “But, but, um, I go by Little Hank.”

  “You may have as a child but Hank is your father and you are hardly little. And I remember from school that Miss Barnes always called you Henry—when she wasn’t three-naming you!”

  Henry could feel himself blushing, wondering if she remembered his middle name.

  “Henry Zebadiah Monroe, I asked you to come over here, please!”

  Yep, reckon she remembers! And suddenly he felt pretty good about life. In another minute he wasn’t quite so sure when she thrust the dress into his hands and asked him to hold it in place on his shoulders. Reaching up she tugged at the dress until he had it in the right place, then patted him on the hand.

  “Yes, I think that will do. Now stand still while I check the hem.”

  ~~~

  Reverend Joe built his sermon brick by brick making full use of any building-related metaphor he could craft, using the text from Matthew as his rock and correlating it with the life Charlotte Susan and Clinton Evans would be building together. He had the whole congregation laughing as he infused the homily with love and concluded with a prayer for the couple’s long life, good health, and many happy years and children together.

  ~~~

  Knowing Green River’s denizens were as fond of a shivaree as Oklahomans, Charlie and Clint had planned a getaway. They enjoyed their wedding dinner and dancing, and then, accompanied by most of the guests, headed to the train station where they headed north, ultimate destination unknown, for a brief wedding trip.

  They boarded their coach and, standing on the platform, to the delight of the crowd, Clint repeated his dramatic kiss of his new bride before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to her seat.

  ~~~

  And they lived happily ever after!

  The End

  PLEASE POST A REVIEW

  https://www.Amazon.com/review/create-review?&asin=

  B0897HM5VL

  ~~~

  Why, you ask, are authors always asking for reviews? Well, mainly because it helps people find our books. You don’t have to say much. “I liked it because . . .” or even just “I liked it!”

  Of course I hope you liked it! But do feel free to share with me what I could have done better (you’ll find all sorts of links below), or if you’d like to see someone else get her (or his!) own story.

  And, thank you for reading!

  ABOUT THIS SERIES

  YOURS TRULY: THE LOVELORN, a multi-author sweet historical romance series, puts an old-fashioned spin on the modern-day "Dear Abby"-style newspaper articles. Each story features someone frustrated in love who writes to The Lovelorn. Then the complications set in. Every book stands alone and features its author's unique creative touch.

  Be sure to read all the books in this series!

  Book 1 – Dear Lovelorn - Marie Higgins

  Book 2 – Brilliant in Boston - Lynn Donovan

  Book 3 – Secretive in Sacramento - Marie Higgins

  Book 4 – Lost in Laramie - Margaret Tanner

  Book 5 – Confused in Colorado - Cat Cahill

  Book 6 – Torn in Toronto - Wendy May Andrews

  Book 7 – Deserted in Dodge - Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Book 8 – Obsessed in Oregon - Marlene Wilson Bierworth

  Book 9 – Overwhelmed in Oklahoma - Elissa Strati

  Book 10 – Wistful in Wisconsin - Marisa Masterson

  Book 11 – Desperate in Delaware - Caroline Clemmons

  Book 12 – Vexed in Vermont - Marie Higgins

  Book 13 – Kissless in Kansas - Elissa Strati

  Book 14 – Dejected in Denver - Cat Cahill

  Book 15 – Alone in Austin - Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Book 16 – Miserable in Montana - Cheryl Wright

  Book 17 – Bewildered in Billings - Lynn Donovan

  Series Page:

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0895GG699

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  The more stories I write, the more I realize that it's not me you're interested in but my friends whose stories I share. A lot of times they are total strangers when they come knocking on my brain, but by the time I've written 20 or 30 thousand words about them, we are pretty close.

  So, I have attached a list of places you can find me. Feel free to contact me with any questions you may have. Feedback is always welcome--I can't fix it if I don't know about it.

  Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope to be talking with you soon.

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElissaStratiAuthor

  Twitter: Betababe [@AvenueAntiques]

  Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Elissa-Strati/e/B077GLWD94

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17307510.Elissa_Strati

  BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/elissa-strati

  Sweet Promise Press: https://sweetpromisepress.com/authors/strati

  AllAuthor: https://allauthor.com/author/elissastrati

  NOTES ON OVERWHELMED IN OKLAHOMA

  (Or, More Than You Ever Wanted To Know About Some Of My Upcoming Books)

  In my mind there is a map of the world which includes layers for various eras. It is gradually being populated in my imagination by the people about whom I write—and their ancestors and progeny! Everyone has a place in this world, but many may never cross paths with even one of the others. It is a big world, after all!

  On the other hand, a great many characters do appear in more than one story, a few in featured roles, many more in the background.

  This particular tale starts in Oklahoma, but the family has just arrived from Kansas, from a town first introduced in Rescuing Christmas (Christmas Rescue series). There you met Charles Barnett and friends. One of those friends was a youngster named Charlie Sue. (She pretty much just said “Howdy,” and walked off-stage.)

  Charlie Sue also had a minor speaking role in Mail Order Barbara (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies series), as did several other folks from Green River, Kansas, and she is more than likely to greet you in my next book, another Christmas Rescue series, Rescuing Barnabas.r />
  The book you have just read is set almost fifteen years in the future from those, mentioned above, but there are still one or two people you may know in it. On the other hand, if this is the only story you read, it stands alone. And, no, unless you are hooked on Ancestry, none of these interrelationships are important except to the characters themselves. It helps them feel secure.

  By the way, the various letters to The Lovelorn mentioned are all from real letters written by other victims, um, “recipients of advice” from the columnist, “Dear Lovelorn”!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  No man is an island. This makes my eighth published work of fiction (may I stop counting yet?) and the list of folks who’ve helped me along the way continues to grow. I might never even have started this journey without the encouragement and support of author Melissa Storm, founder of Sweet Promise Press. At the time she had been invited by Amazon to create a Kindle World known as First Street Church. I wrote three books for that world, starting with Love’s Odds.

  It was among the First Street group of fellow authors that I met Jane Lebak and delved into the world of Gothic Romance—okay, maybe a little bit of Horror (but it shouldn’t keep you up at night!)—and together we wrote Hunger. I hadn’t realized collaboration could be such fun!

  ~~~

  In my earliest days as a published writer, another author, Barbara Goss, also reached out to me on Facebook and has guided me through some of the arcana of (shudder) publicity. You see, we “independent” authors are responsible for the entire process from writing, to editing, to proofreading, to publishing, and then to publicizing! That’s one of the reasons for the “review” plea above, and why we are all so grateful when you share books you like with others.